


The Beach

by Cosmic_Grooves



Category: The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Because peter is a precious bean and we all love him, Day At The Beach, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied Sexual Reference/s, Its actually just a crab, Kissing, M/M, Mild Angst, Multi, OT4, Original non-human character (ish), Other, Peter befriends a crab, Polyamory, Weird flirting, and will scare the poor creature too, but we all still love him in spite of that, davy is scared of crabs, hey kids don't pick up random creatures you find at the beach, i attempted some humour??, its probs kinda dangerous, micky is an annoying brat, mike low-key puts up with a lot of stuff ngl, one reference to the beatles 'a hard day's night' film from 1964, peter is like TV show peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:41:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29145366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmic_Grooves/pseuds/Cosmic_Grooves
Summary: After weeks of unrelenting rain had trapped the Monkee's in their Pad, a reprieve was granted... As the Sun shines brightly on California, the Monkee's take advantage of the dry weather and make for the beach.Their day is filled with the discovery of exciting creatures, the creation of marvelous sand castles and the love the four of them share for each other but also, inevitably, the emotional conflicts between young lovers and saying farewell to good friends...(BTW Peter also befriends a crab and its low-key adorable)
Relationships: Micky Dolenz/Davy Jones/Mike Nesmith/Peter Tork
Kudos: 5





	The Beach

**Author's Note:**

> This whole fic started as a short Peter x Davy (x Micky ?) post-swimming one-shot BUT THEN it turned into an angsty story wherein Mike spiralled *a lot* BUT THEN it calmed the frick down thus turning into the wayyy too long beach-themed fluff fic you see today lovies 💝
> 
> A note on the tagged ship (Micky x Davy x Mike x Peter)... I'd like to give a nod to some of the fan fic authors who've contributed to this tag before me, especially @ReleasingmyInsanity and @Marasa and @what_the_nesmith. You groovy writers have written some really lovely stuff on this kinda obscure tag. Each of you conjured very different but very beautiful and valid polycule dynamics to the point I just can't even. I'm not going try to live up to the complex and beautiful interactions you lot brilliantly wove between the Monkees in your works, but I would like you lot to know I love your work and have just been too darn shy to comment 💛  
> If anybody reading this hasn't happened across @ReleasingmyInsanity , @Marasa or @what_the_nesmith 's works on the Micky x Davy x Mike x Peter tag here on AO3 yet, I'd definitely recommend them. You will be in for a treat lovies !! This is coming from somebody who has read their stuff in the past and loved it 😉
> 
> Please enjoy reading "The Beach" everyone !! 😁😉 !! There might also be a prequel story (idek) on the way ?? AND - don't hesitate to comment !! 👍✌ (especially if you can think of a more creative title than just "The Beach" lol 🐚🦀)
> 
> Cheers,  
> Cosmic_Grooves 🌈💛🌻☮🌙

* * *

So-called 'beach days' were never difficult to organise for the Monkees, as their Pad was built right up near the sea shore. Though, despite the proximity of the welcoming waves to their home, the Monkees seldom decided to dedicate a day solely to beach-side exploits.

But one day, the Monkees made an exception in light of recent circumstances.

A wet spell had drenched California for weeks, smothering the sunshine and the palm trees in drizzle and dreariness. The sunny, warm weather for which California was renowned, was sorely, sorely missed by the Monkees ( _Micky had even despaired dramatically one day, "Will we ever see the Sun again?"_). It had reminded Davy of the soggy weather back in Manchester. The wet weather had meant that the boys had hardly left the Pad in weeks. Few clubs were hiring for gigs, as everyone had tried to stay dry at home.

Cooped together in their Pad for weeks on end had had its unexpected bonuses although; the Monkees got to know one another better than ever before. Their bond as a band was strong. Their bond as friends was stronger. And the new bond as partners was the strongest yet.

Though love blossomed between the four of them in ways that hardly seemed possible, they knew if the rain didn't stop soon they would all end up going _completely banana's. _(Despite all loving Micky dearly, Peter, Mike and Davy knew they couldn't stand to see their boyfriend _literally_ try to run up the wall for the seventh time in half as many days.)

Luckily for the Monkees, a reprieve from the endless rain was soon granted...

* * *

Davy was shaken awake by a positively bubbling Peter early in the morning.

"Davy!" Peter exclaimed excitedly.

"Huh? What's goin' on?" mumbled Davy groggily, rubbing his eyes.

"Sunshine!" Peter was practically bouncing beside the bed.

He pointed eagerly at the window and tugged Davy to come and look.

Indeed, there was sunshine. Quite literally the first sunshine either Peter or Davy had seen in weeks. Even better, the sky was almost completely cloud free. You didn't need to be an expert meteorologist to forecast that it wasn't going to rain that day. Davy peered out the window, already feeling the warmth of the Sun on his face. Outside, he could see and hear the insects emerging outside the Pad, buzzing around excitedly: it was like the the last few weeks of downpour were non-existent.

Peter was fidgety with excitement. Beaming at Davy he asked: "Do you want to go to the beach? 'Cause I really wanna go to the beach today David."

Davy grinned, and turned to the taller, very excited blond boy, intertwining their fingers together.

Gazing romantically into Peter's eyes, Davy said warmly, "That's fortunate Peter, because I would _love_ to take you to the beach today."

Peter practically squealed with excitement and threw his arms around Davy. The smaller boy caught his balance just in time.

"We're going to have a beach day! I'll go tell Mike and Micky! It's going to be the best ever!" Peter bubbled excitedly, placing a quick kiss on Davy's cheek before sprinting upstairs to tell their other two boyfriends.

As it turned out, Micky and Mike come to the same idea as Peter and Davy at almost exactly the same moment. In fact, Micky had galloped out his and Mike's room at the same instant Peter had sprinted from his and Davy's. The two collided with a loud _smack!_ on the spiral staircase.

Unfazed by their loud collision, both boys cried in unison **_"_ _ **S** un! Beach!_**"

Excitedly, Peter and Micky grabbed each other hands and jumped up and down, continuing to holler enthusiastically at one another in their new, strange, monosyllabic dialect. They rushed around the Pad like headless chickens, grabbing whatever they seemed to think would be good for them to take to the beach, such as towels, a shovel and an umbrella.

This all happened rather quickly, and Davy and Mike were left hanging sleepily out their bedroom doors staring at their boyfriends with a mixture of confusion and bemusement.

Peter had the sandcastle bucket in one hand and a hat in another, and yet somehow the bucket ended up on his head instead of the hat. Strangely, (if anything could be deemed 'strange' in the Monkees world) Micky, in his excited energy, had tried to pick up the toaster with the intention of taking it with them to the beach, but Mike at descended the spiral staircase in time to save the poor kitchen appliance.

In no time at all, the Monkees had traversed the short distance from their Pad to the beach. Micky and Peter had raced each other. They sprinted neck-to-neck to the beach, with Micky stopping suddenly at the last moment, seeming to allow Peter to narrowly overtake him, thus winning.

Mike and Davy cheered for Peter's victory; Peter turned and gave them a small bow, before skipping off down the beach exploring the sand and looking for seashells.

The other two Monkees had followed their energetic boyfriends at a much more leisurely pace, their hands lightly brushing as they strolled down to the beach; Mike and Davy's pinkie fingers even briefly hooked with a small but affectionate squeeze.

All the while, Micky galloped along the sand like a wild horse, his curly maine of hair flopping around in the wind. He was grinning from ear to ear, spouting utter but very ecstatic nonsense. Bounding down the sand dunes, his almost-limitless energy uninhibited by the indoors for the first time in weeks. Micky even got on all fours like some sort of dog and ran into the waves, shouting " _Woooweeee!!!_ " as he lunged headfirst into an oncoming wave. He emerged from the swallows, a triumphant look upon his face. He turned easterly, vaguely facing the Sun. He hammered his chest like Tarzan and thundered in a deep, silly voice, " _O Sun, biiiiiig Sun, thank thee for thy waaaaaarmth and light!_ "

Davy chuckled at Micky's antics, commenting to Mike: "That sure is one way to celebrate the return of the sunshine, I suppose..."

He gazed up at Mike.

Mike gazed down at Davy. 

It amused the two boyfriends to no end their great difference in height. Their hands had found one another again - a silent _squeeze_ stood in for an _I love you and Micky so much..._

A few moments passed before Mike spoke with a toothy grin plastering his face: "Sure is, shotgun. I think we all need a break from all that goddarn rain." 

Davy couldn't help but agree with his boyfriends; anymore time cooped up in the Pad (with * _ahem*_ Micky in particular, practically bouncing off the walls) would have been disastrous. That said, the English lad had a different idea on how to celebrate the return of sunshine, that (thankfully) didn't involve loud pseudo-pagan, Sun worshiping like Micky. Instead, Davy spread a beach towel out the soft, warm sand and promptly eased himself down, intending to work on his tan. Davy patted a small space beside him on the towel, and beckoned to Mike, who then sat cross-legged beside him. Squinting in the sunlight, Mike gingerly squirted some sunblock into his palms, before slapping it on his arms and face. Unlike Davy, Micky and Peter, Mike didn't tan, he burned. The Texan silently passed the sunblock lotion to his English boyfriend, just as they heard another " _Woooweeee!!!_ " from Micky, followed by a loud splash.

Davy nodded his head in the general direction of the water: " 'e's at it again."

"You think he's gonna be okay? Like - he won't drown or anything?" wondered Mike anxiously.

"'Course he'll be fine, babe," reassured Davy, "This is Micky we're talking about. That crazy cat could bounce back from anything!"

Mike nodded, but he still appeared worried.

"Besides," Davy continued, sitting up and letting his hands wander across the dark hairs on Mike's chest, "He's got a handsome, dark-haired lifeguard to save him if he does get into trouble..." 

"Pfft, sure," Mike rolled his eyes, trying to downplay the flirtatious flattery but Davy could just see Mike blush in the Sun's increasing glare.

As Micky splashed in the water and as Mike and Davy basked in the Sun, Peter wandered along the beach as fine grains of sand slipped between his toes. He examined sea shells and driftwood, his eyes filled with childlike curiosity, scouring the beach for objects of interest. Beneath a curious pile of washed up rocks and shells, Peter thought he saw a small movement. He bent down to investigate further; there was indeed something moving under the rocks. Wanting to know what it could be, but also fearing it might be dangerous, Peter picked up a nearby washed up stick and prudently shifted a few rocks - Peter had found a small crab scuttling under a rock! Thinking it cute Peter followed it along the beach, before coaxing it into a small, nearby rock pool. He watched the crab with curiosity, a wide smile growing on his face.

"Aww, hey buddy, you're a little cutie, aren't ya?" Peter smiled at the crab.

The crab seemed to click its small claws in response.

Thinking for a moment, Peter then announced to nobody in particular, "I think I will name you... Crab Crubbins!"

* * *

"Come on, guys, the waters great! You two should come join me!" Micky insisted 

Micky had been calling at Mike and Davy from the waves for almost ten whole minutes in an attempt to elicit them water with him.

Mike shook his head and called back adamantly, "Nuh-uh, not today, shotgun. Nez is staying _dry_."

"Boo- _ooooooo_!" whinged Micky at the top of his lungs; "What about Davy?" 

Davy shook his head.

" _Puh-wease_ Davy?" pouted Micky.

"No way! It looks too chilly for my tastes, Micky," countered Davy.

" _Pretty_ please?" Micky pouted again.

"Not even if your 'please' was so pretty it won the Miss Universe pageant, mate!" retorted Davy.

" _Pretty_ please, _with a cherry on top?"_ Micky actually tried to curtsy in the water.

With a groan of disapproval, Davy finally relented. Micky's efforts had finally worn the English lad down.

Mike chuckled and raised an eyebrow at Davy. His expression seemed to ask: " _Really?"_

Davy shrugged and joked, "Anything to shut him up."

Mike's hand found Davy's again and they squeezed, before Davy began making his way to the waves. Mike eased himself further in the beach blanket and slid on his sunglasses; Davy could swear he heard snoring as soon he got as little as fifteen paces from Mike.

"Come _ooooooon_ Davy! Hurry up!" called Micky.

Davy ignored Micky and slowly tip-toed into the water. As he did so, he wished he hadn't relented and had remained with Mike basking, snoozing and holding hands in the warm Sun - the water was freezing!

Tentatively, Davy waded into the water trying to progressively alclimatise himself to the cool waves. 

Micky, on the other hand, had different plans. He playfully yanked Davy further into the water, causing the shorter boy to give a small cry.

"Oi! It's really cold, y'know!" Davy yelped.

Micky cackled unsympathetically, "Its not _that_ cold."

With a small huff, Davy splashed an armful of teeth-chattering water at Micky.

"Tell a lie," whined Micky, as the freezing water splashed in his face "It is _that_ cold!"

"Ha! See how it feels?" retaliated Davy.

Micky shrugged. He scooped Davy up from underneath the water and gripping him by the thighs, Micky firmly lifted Davy into the air.

"Micky!" Davy exclaimed as the sea breeze began to whip his hair.

"Warmer?" Micky was teasing Davy now.

"Put me down, Micky!" whinged Davy, "It's even colder up here!"

The drummer relented, gracefully pulling his small boyfriend back into the water.

Luckily here, the water was not so deep that Micky had to doggy paddle to keep his head above the water - he stood comfortably on the sea floor. Davy was not so lucky, on the other hand, not exactly being blessed in the height department. Even on tippy-toes, Davy struggled to avoid sea water sloshing right in his face.

Micky slithered his arms under Davy's shoulders, and hoisted his boyfriend up again, but this time much more tenderly. 

Their eyes were level.

Davy clung close enough to Micky their noses were brushing.

Micky smiled and thought; _So this is how it feels to be at the same height Davy? He's even more cute at this angle. Maybe I should lift him more..._

Davy clambered around Micky's body and hung off his back as if he were a koala.

He leaned up to Micky's ear and purred, "You're a swine, Dolenz."

" _You're a swine_ ," parroted Micky in his best John Lennon impression.

Davy giggled like a schoolgirl.

"But it's why you love me, right?" Micky said wiggling his eyebrows.

"Who said I love you?" teased Davy, as he kissed the nape of Micky's neck, before adding in a whisper barely audible above the sound of the sea, " _I actually do love you, Micky..._ "

Micky whispered back, gently tickling Davy's leg, " _I know. And I love you too Davy baby._ "

* * *

Peter thought Crab Crubbins was adorable. Cautiously, Peter lay down on his belly, carefully enough so as not to startle his new crab friend, and admired him with a smile. The curiosity and adoration Peter had for the little creature absorbed him. He loved the way the creature scuttled sideways across the sand and the way his little legs left small pinholes in the sand he trod upon. Peter found himself thinking what the world would was like from Crab Crubbins perspective - would the rock pool to Crab Crubbins feel like the ocean to Peter Tork?

_Do you get hungry, Crab Crubbins, I wonder?_ thought Peter.

He wondered what Crab Crubbins was thinking, or even _if_ he thought at all. 

" _Petah!_ " Peter heard Davy's call from a distance, " _It's lunch-time!_ "

"You hear that, Crab Crubbins?" said Peter softly to his small scuttling friend, "Davy says it's lunchtime... Do you want to come meet the guys? If you're hungry I'm sure we got food to spare..."

Crab Crubbins seemed to click his claws in response, and scuttle excitedly in a circle. Peter beamed, taking his friend movements as a sign of agreement. Tenderly, he scooped Crab Crubbins into his sand bucket and carried the small, shelled creature to meet the other Monkees...

* * *

Davy had gone back up to Pad to scrounge around their cupboards some food for beach picnic, leaving Mike to lay out the beach towels to accommodate all four of them.

A figure cast a sudden shadow in Mike's line of sight; tall, lithe and curly-haired.

"Have I got seaweed in my hair?" Micky asked bending down and presenting his hair to Mike.

Mike sat puzzled by Micky's question for a moment; "Seaweed? In your hair?"

"Yah. Seaweed. The green stuff in the sea that mermaids eat, y'know?" replied Micky.

"Gee, Mick, I know what seaweed is." 

"Huh, I never knew you were such an expert on sea flora Mike," Micky shook his head in faux surprise.

Mike beckoned Micky into his lap and began running his fingers though the thick head of curls before him.

"What on God's Earth makes yew think ya got seaweed in your hair, Micky?" asked Mike as he massaged the roots of Micky's unruly curls.

"I was the _victim_ of an _unprovoked_ attack! " Micky began melodramatically, "Davy splashed a _huge_ amount of water at me after I pulled him in the water - who knows what could have been in that water! Seaweed? Piranhas? Treasure? So, _anyway_ \- ..."

And on Micky rambled.

Mike smiled - he loved listening to Micky ramble on and on like this.

"And _then,_ I thought I should get _you_ to check, Mike-y, being an _expert_ in sea flora and being _so_ brave _and_ handsome and everything..." teased Micky.

Mike rolled his eyes at his goofy boyfriend.

A quick inspection of Micky's hair showed both boys that his curls were seaweed free. In fact, Mike doubted Micky actually thought there was seaweed in his hair - he suspected the drummer was only looking for a scalp massage, which Mike was only too eager to deliver.

"All clear shotgun!" Mike announced.

"Thanks Nez," smiled Micky and then proceeded, in broad daylight, to give Mike a very wet kiss.

Mike tensed and Micky stopped immediately; he knew instantly what was up.

"Hey, its okay Mikey baby," said Micky softly, "It's just you 'n' me and Pete and Davy. Nobody around for miles man. We're clear, we're groovy."

Taking a deep, slightly shaky breath, Mike tried to calm himself.

He breathed again and repeated Micky's words: "We're clear, we're groovy."

"Uh-huh, it's true babe," nodded Micky, with a grin.

When Micky lips touched Mike's again, the Texan let out a sigh he hadn't realised had been stuck in him.

* * *

The Monkees settled on their large bundle of beach towels, enjoying their beach picnic lunch. Peter sat on his feet, his sand bucket secured between his knees, somehow comfortable like that. Davy lazed on his side, his arm propping up his upper body, letting his toes idly tickle the sand beside the beach towels. Micky lay sprawled over the cross-legged Mike, the drummers head resting in the guitarists lap.

Davy had managed to scrape together quite a collection from their mostly empty cupboards. He'd found enough bread for sandwiches, a small lump of butter, a piece of jerky and one very suspect looking bell pepper (Mike - a man who never likes to see food go to waste - took one sniff at that bell pepper and screwed up his face in disgust. It seemed even Mike was willing to let his standards slip in this case - he was in no way game to try that suspect vegetable).

Micky had the others in stitches as he regaled them with his recollections of a chaotic dream he had the previous night; there had been a Princess with a bad temper in a land known as Kirschner that bore uncanny resemblance to none-other than Mike Nesmith. There had been an aggressive Goldilocks, and, of course, a tripping-out dragon guarding a draw-bridge. But throughout the laughter, Davy couldn't help but notice that for the last quarter of an hour Peter had kept sprinkling crumbs of his sandwich into the sand bucket between his legs...

As Micky finished his recalling his dream, Davy took the floor, clearing his throat, he said; "Hey, err - Peter?"

"Hmm? Yes, David?" Peter replied looked up from the contents of his sand bucket; his eyes blinked innocently.

"Why do you keep dropping crumbs into your sand bucket, love?" Davy asked.

"Oh! That!" exclaimed Peter cheerfully, "They are for my best buddy!"

Peter had said it like that explained everything. Davy, Micky and Mike were even more bamboozled; they shared a bewildered gaze.

"Heh, I thought we were your best buddies Pete," Micky tried to joke but the gag fell flat on its face.

" _Were_ ," repeated Peter before elaborating enthusiastically: "But now your _my boyfriend_ Micky. So I guess that means we're like _best_ best buddies, which I guess is kinda like being best buddies except with more kissing and, yah'know, _other stuff_ too."

"Well, yah. I get that, Pete babe. I love kissing you and the _other stuff_ too, buuuut -" Micky struggled to think of the right words, and glanced at Davy and Mike for assistance.

"I think what Mick, Dave 'n' me are tryna get at Pete, is, who's ya pal and why are ya savin' him crumbs in a bucket?" Mike asked before adding, "'Cause, if you wanted to give 'im a sandwich, you could just wrap it in someone newspaper or somethin', babe..."

Peter laughed and shook his head, "It's not _quite_ like that Michael."

"Oh?" prompted Mike, perplexed.

Peter took the bucket from between his legs and placed it between the four of them. He beckoned for the others to peek.

"This is my friend," explained Peter softly, "His name's Crab Crubbins. I found him earlier, under some rocks and shells. He's cute, don't you think?"

The small creature glanced up apprehensively at the four faces circling the lip of the bucket.

Mike laughed, relived it wasn't anything worse than a tinsy, little crab.

"Sure, he's a cute little guy, but he's no way in the same league of cuteness as you, Big Peter," winked Micky.

Peter blushed at Micky's flirty comment while Mike just tutted and rolled his eyes.

"Y'know that gold rim around his head makes it look like he has a crown," commented Micky, peering curiously at Crab Crubbins.

"If he has a crown, do you think that means he's a King?" asked Peter excitedly.

"Sure he is!" humoured Mike, smiling adoringly at Peter and ruffling the blond's hair.

"Golly! I've never met a King before!" exclaimed Peter.

"Hey, if he's a King, you know what that means he needs?" Micky asked dramatically.

"What?!" Peter awaited Micky's words eagerly.

"A sand castle of course!" Micky announced, ruffling Peter's hair further.

Peter beamed, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree, filled with excitement and wonder.

" ** _It's a crab!_** " squeaked Davy eventually, his voice lined with fear.

The poor English boy stared wide-eyed at the small creature in the bucket - he gulped as Crab Crubbins scuttled sideways. Davy was no where as taken with Crab Crubbins as Peter, Micky and Mike were, in fact, he was thoroughly unease with the creature.

"Davy!" said Peter, "He can't hurt you. He's okay really!"

To prove his point, Peter carefully placed his hand into the bucket and tenderly coaxed Crab Crubbins into his palm. Davy begun to back away slowly

"B-But, it's got pincers! And it moves like _that!_ " Davy stuttered, pointing at Crab Crubbins beginning to scuttle up Peter's forearm.

"Davy, come on man, the crab's this small - " Mike indicted the distance by holding less than an inch of air between his finger and thumb, " - and there's about 3 feet between you and it."

"I just - I'm not really a crab fellow myself, fella's. I think they look...like spiders" said Davy eventually.

"Spiders?" Mike frowned in confusion, "Crab's have ten legs, not eight, babe."

"Look, they have lots of legs - even more than spiders! - and they move in _that_ really creepy way like they are bobbing?" Davy tried to explain, his voice shaky with fear.

"I thought you weren't scared of spiders, David?" inquired Peter as he idly curled his finger and stroked Crab Crubbins shell.

"I - I'm not, just - crabs are weird, okay? I'm _really not_ big on them," sighed Davy heavily - his eyes were still fixed fearfully on the crab.

Peter looked slightly disappointed and looked sadly at Davy, "Aw, I'm sorry Davy. Are you all alright?"

Peter had never intended to scare Davy... _Have I done something worng? Is Davy mad at me?_ Peter wondered.

Mike could also tell Davy was quite freaked out by Crab Crubbins. Although he couldn't understand possibly why, Mike saw the need to try and get Davy away for a while, to help Davy calm himself.

Mike stood up and held his hand out; "Hey Davy baby," he said tenderly, "How's 'bout we go for a walk, yeah? Find some nice shells to help Peter and Micky decorate their castle, yeah?"

Davy nodded. His hand interlocked with Mike's, the two of them were soon strolling hand-in-hand along the beach.

* * *

With Mike and Davy gone, Micky and Peter got underway building a sand castle for Crab Crubbins.

Micky had a real knack for invention and construction and his abilities were at no loss right here - he seemed to have an impressive vision for Crab Crubbins' sand castle canvassing his minds' eye. He explained excitedly to Peter his idea's using big, expressive gestures. Peter nodded enthusiastically, eagerly absorbing every word of Micky's pitch for the design of the sand castle.

Micky finished his pitch with the pronouncement; "The castle I have in mind for Crab Crubbins will make him like the kingliest King to _ever_ have kinged!"

"D'you hear that Crab Crubbins?" Peter bent down and whispered to Crab Crubbins, "You're going to be the king Kingliest to have ever kinged - no - the kingliest Kinged to have ever king - no - the clingliest Cling to ever have clinged?"

Crab Crubbins seemed to click his claws approvingly regardless of the fact Peter's words were barely in the right order.

Peter and Micky began piling mounds of sand together and patting it, sculpting it upwards into the air - together they would make a truly astonishing sandcastle.

* * *

Mike and Davy strolled along the beach together, talking and collecting sea-shells. Afternoon had fallen and the tide had begun to show tell-tale signs that it was coming home to the shore for that evening.

"Perhaps I overreacted. I was a scared by it's scuttling, that's'all," admitted Davy, as he knelt into the sand to pick up another seashell.

"I know babe. I know you don't like creepy crawlies like that very much," Mike squeezed Davy's hand sympathetically.

Mike and Davy walked a few more paces, their hands firmly but comfortably intertwined.

Mike added after a while; "I still think you should maybe talk to Peter, Davy. I think Peter might worry that your not alright, and he could - only _could_ though - blame himself."

"Blame himself?" huffed Davy, slightly irritable, "It's not 'im I got the heebie jeebies 'bout, it's _that ... thing._ "

Mike sighed, "You 'n' me both know this, Davy, but y'know Pete too. Y'know how sometimes he takes things straight int'er his sweet, ol' heart that he shouldn't do..."

Davy brushed his arm against Mikes.

With a sigh Davy eventually said; "I'll talk to Petah, Mike."

Their hands squeezed tightly.

"Thank you Davy."

* * *

Micky bounded around his and castle construction project like an energetic sheep-dog, craftily patting mounds of sand into the appropriate shape. From Micky's mouth a ceaseless flurry of words came, largely regarding changes to construction plan, dismal groans of failure or enthusiastic cries of successes along the way.

Meanwhile, Peter cradled Crab Crubbins in one arm and with the other, scooped sand up from around the castles outer walls to construct a moat

Micky paused his words for a moment and Peter seized the rare opportunity of Micky's quietness: "Hey Micky, can I ask you something?"

"Yah, 'course," Micky replied as he piled sand into a bucket, "Sock it to me, babe."

"Micky, do you think Davy is mad at me?" asked Peter.

"Pssh, what? You're kidding? Nah, babe, Davy is just freaked out by His Majesty here," Micky replied offhandedly, gesturing at Crab Crubbins, before aligning the sand filled bucket at the base of one of the castles' turrets.

"Okay," replied Peter simply.

Micky glanced at Peter - the blond boy looked unsure and his lips twitched with uncertainly.

"Oh Peter..." Micky scooped Peter's shoulders into his arms and held him tight.

"Does Davy hate me?" Peter's voice wobbled with held back tears.

"What?! No way, babe, no way!" exclaimed Micky, completely taken aback by Peter's words.

Micky squeezed Peter's shoulders and placed a big kiss on his forehead; "Listen to me carefully, Big Peter: David Thomas Jones would never _ever_ hate you. Not in a _million, billion_ years. He loves you so much, Pete. So, so much."

Peter curled tightly into Micky's arms, and Micky cradled Peter's head, and tenderly stroked Peter's hair.

"If you're still worried about Davy being scared or whatever, you should just talk to him later on babe..." added Micky with his fingers still trailing through Peter's hair.

Peter nodded and Micky kissed him again. He could tell Peter was still worried that he had upset Davy. Micky decided Peter could do with a bit of distracting, for the time being...

"The tide will be in soon, we should finish Crab Crubbins castle..." Micky suggested, easing his grip on Peter's shoulders.

Peter nodded again, but this time, much to Micky's relief, with a small smile.

* * *

Mike and Davy's jaws dropped at the sight before them - the sand castle Peter and Micky had constructed for Crab Crubbins was utterly impressive. Crab Crubbins' castle was half of Davy's height. There were six tall turrets that climbed into the air spread out in a hexagon much like honeycomb. Within the large mass of sand, Peter and Micky had carved out the sandy innards leaving a vast cavernous space; _"It's Crab Crubbins' royal court,"_ explained Micky. Peering inside the castle at the so-called royal court, Mike and Davy could just see a hump of sand fashioned to look like vaguely like a throne. Hundreds of small windows and openings had been carved into the castles sides and Peter and Micky had also used small twigs of driftwood tied together with seaweeds to make railings and bars. Around the castle, they had carved a wide moat - and had continued to dig a channel off the moat down the beach to meet to rising tide.This meant that as the tide steadily sloshed up the beach, a small amount of sea water would flow up the channel and fill the moat. And finally, a short plank of that had washed up on the shore became a draw bridge to Crab Crubbins' magnificent sand castle.

Open-mouthed, Mike and Davy handed Peter and Micky the sea-shells they had found, and watched impressed as Peter and Micky expertly placed them on the sand castle. Many of the sea-shells Mike and Davy had found become hatchways and window-shutters on the tall turrets, and others were placed to look like ornamental torches around the castle.

Peter and Micky stood back and proudly surveyed their work.

"What do you guys think?" inquired Peter.

"Pete, it's -" Mike stood wide-eyed, lost for words.

"It's brilliant!" Davy continued, as equally gobsmacked by Peter and Micky's work as Mike was, "How'd you do it?"

Micky pushed out his chest proudly, and responded in a silly, deep voice, "With an awful lot of blood, sweat and tears, Jones."

"We also used a sand bucket!" added Peter brightly.

"It's incredible. Really." Mike's eyes twinkled; "You two are so incredible 'n' talented, y'know that?"

Peter and Micky were completely humbled.

"Oh, Mikey..." murmured Micky, as Peter shyly blushed at Mike.

The time soon came for Crab Crubbins to enter his new residence, his incredible sand castle. Peter scooped Crab Crubbins into his arms, and with his finger, gently stroked his shell.

Peter cooed quietly, "Micky and me made you a castle, Crab Crubbins, because you are a King. I hope you like it. It's been groovy meeting you, you're just the best Crab Crubbins..."

Peter gently placed Crab Crubbins on the sand before bridge that led over the moat into his new castle.

Crab Crubbin's tentatively scuttled onto the drawbridge. He obviously assessed it to be stable, and so Crab Crubbins scurried along it confidently into the sand castle.

Peter wiped a tear from his cheek, gazing proudly at his small, regal, sea-side friend.

Before entering the threshold of his royal court, Crab Crubbins turned back to the Monkees, seeming to look at Peter in particular.

He raised a claw. It was like he was saying; " _Thank you Monkees, and goodbye Peter, my friend._ "

"Goodbye Crab Crubbins," replied Peter quietly.

Finally, Crab Crubbins disappeared from view, into his impressive sand castle.

"I'll miss him, y'know..." whispered Peter mournfully.

"We know, shotgun, we know," replied Mike sympathetically, placing a hand on Peter's shoulder.

* * *

The Sun's rays had began to tickle the western horizon: the luminescent orb was slowly beginning to set. For the Monkee's, this meant their beach-day was drawing to a close.

"Can we go go into the water just _one_ more time?" badgered Micky.

"Can we? Can we? Can we?" Peter chorused excitedly.

"Okay, but be quick guys, it's getting dark," responded Mike.

Peter and Micky scampered off into the waves for one last dip in the water, splashing about like ecstatic young children.

Meanwhile Davy, wrapped his hand around Mike's and tugged. Davy managed to drag Mike to the edge of the shallows, where the waves tickled their toes.

"Join us?" Davy asked.

"I'll repeat what I said to Micky earlier, Davy baby: 'Nez is staying dry'," stated Mike wryly.

Davy felt his eye's roll at Mike's stubbornness. Micky and Peter smirked knowingly at each other. And Mike felt Davy's small hands gently press into the arch of his back...

"I don't think Nez is staying dry, not today," said Micky coyly, as Peter mischievously giggled.

Mike knew could tell that the three of them were up to something, but before Mike could even open his mouth to protest, the air was filled with the sound of his own yelp as two sets of arms yanked his own and gentle nudge from behind pushed him into the water.

"Ha, ha, very funny guys," Mike said sarcastically, grimacing as a small wave of salty water lashed in his face.

"Glad you could join us, Mr Nesmith," Micky grinned as wide as the Cheshire Cat.

Mike winced as Micky heaved an armful of salty water at Mike - the sea salt stung.

"Oh, come on Micky! Not the hat! Please not the hat!" cried Mike as Micky splashed more seawater about.

Micky's relentless splashing left Peter, Davy and Mike spitting seawater from their mouths and desperately blinking seawater from their eyes. Micky's hands had suddenly snatched Mike's green hat from his head, before swimming off with the woolen object.

"Micky!" exclaimed Mike as Micky swam off, "I'm gunna get yew for that!"

"You'll have to catch me first!" retorted Micky as Mike began furiously paddling after him.

" _Gawd. All. Mighty._ Micky!" Mike groaned, exasperated, "Give me my hat back, yew -"

Finally alone with Davy for the first time in hours, Peter tapped him on the shoulder.

Davy swirled around in the water to face Peter.

"I'm sorry about earlier, Davy" said Peter nervously as he repeatedly combed his fingers through his hair, "Are you still mad at me?"

Davy gazed quietly at Peter, contemplating his nervous boyfriend.

Peter stared apprehensively and worriedly back at Davy.

_He really thinks I'm mad at 'im,_ thought Davy with immense sadness.

Oh, so tenderly _,_ Davy took the wrist of Peter's hand that was nervously scratching at his blond locks, and brought that hand to his lips. Davy placed the softest of kisses on Peters' hand, before warmly sandwiching it between his own two, small palms.

Davy's dark-brown eyes locked silently with Peter's light-brown eyes.

"No, Petah," Davy said softly after a while, "I could never be mad at you, 'specially not over something as silly as a crab. I was just a bit - _sheepish_ \- because of it. That's all. _You_ didn't do me wrong, love..."

"I never want to make you feel bad, David. Not ever. And I would - " Peter nervously began to ramble.

Davy released Peter's hand from between his own and placed his finger over Peter's lips to shush him.

"Hush, Petah. I know, love, I know." soothed Davy.

With his other free hand, Davy reached up to the nape of Peter's neck and gently guided the blond's head down for a loving kiss.

"Oh, Davy..." mumbled Peter, his feelings of nervousness melting away at Davy's tender actions.

"Peter, I love you," said Davy.

"I love you too, Davy. So, so much man..." responded Peter without missing a beat.

The shared a slow exchange of soft, warm kisses with their foreheads pressed together, but the romantic scene was interrupted by a loud splash in the water beside them.

"Quiiiick! Take it! Before Mike gets it!" cried Micky.

"Davy, Peter!" growled Mike from a distance, "Don't you _dare_ take my hat."

Davy and Peter glanced beside them and, sure enough, in a soggy wet mess floating in the waves was Mike's trademark green, woolen hat.

Peter smirked cheekily and asked Davy; "Shall I take it or shall you, David?"

Davy grinned and shrugged; "You're a much faster swimmer than me."

"Okay," Peter grinned.

In one swift motion, Peter had snatched the soaked green, woolen hat and had bopped with it in hand under the waves. To Davy, it looked like a blond-haired dolphin surfacing before diving gracefully back below. Davy watched as Micky and Peter dodged Mike in between the waves, craftily switching possession of Mike's poor hat between them. Somehow, Davy ended up with Mike's soaked hat. Mike, Micky and Peter's movement's eventually began to slow, their busy and tiring day finally beginning to catch up with them...

The water was growing cold as the Sun was disappearing below the Western horizon.

All four Monkees shivered: the cool waves came up to Peter, Mike and Micky's chests, and Davy's shoulders.

Unconsciously, their four bodies seemed to gravitate together, huddling, a bit like penguins, for warmth.

"I have something of yours, I think, Michael," said Davy, wringing Mike's green, woolen hat as he spoke.

"Better have," grunted Mike, crossing his arms.

Davy reached up on tippy-toes and replaced Mike's green hat on his head. The woolen garment was still weighed down by the large amount of water it had soaked up and drooped weirdly on Mike's thick, raven hair.

Mike stewed and sulked, glaring unapprovingly at Micky, Peter and Davy, in the water. Micky and Davy tried desperately not to giggle - Mike would have looked formidable if not for the slushy, dripping clump atop of his head.

"Y'all are _so -_ " he muttered.

"'So', what?" asked Peter, seemingly 'innocent'.

" _Naughty,_ " finished Mike eventually, softening his expression - he unable to bring himself to call his boyfriends anything worse or hold any meaningful grudge towards them.

Davy snorted back a fit of laughter at Mike's description of their behaviour.

Micky beamed, proud to have been described as 'naughty'.

"Why thank you, Michael!" responded Peter with adorable dimpled cheeks.

It amazed Mike, Micky and Davy to no end how Peter's characteristic innocence and sweetness stayed about him, regardless of the circumstances.

Micky bear-hugged Peter from behind, and peppered the blond boy with a series of kisses and nibbles traversing from his ears to his cheek before finally stopping to suck at Peter's neck, ravishing him lovingly. Davy reached up on tippy-toes again and tried to adjust Mike's soaking wet hat to make it sit properly, but it was a lost cause - the hat was really soaked. Instead, Davy just settled at coiling his arms around Mike's wiry torso, leaning his head against Mike's chest hoping to feel the taller man's chest rise and fall as he breathed. Davy's heart fluttered as he felt Mike reciprocate his actions, bending one of his long arms around Davy's small hips. Meanwhile, Mike's other arm reached out to accommodate Peter and Micky as they waded towards them. Micky hummed as Mike's long fingers brushed and stroked through his curly hair. Peter wrapped his legs around Davy and Mike, holding them close. Peter's lips placed a kiss first on Davy's forehead and second on Mike's cheek.

It was a complex position - a strange inter-weaved bundle of four young men who cared deeply for one another.

It was also a difficult position to maintain especially in the water - but to the Monkees it was worth the effort, because to them it spoke of the love between them.

"It was a good day, wasn't it?" mumbled Peter, laying his head sleepily on Mike's lithe shoulder.

"You bet, Pete," replied Micky, nustling his face into Peter's blond hair, "We made a far out sandcastle, you befriended Crab Crubbins, we had a groovy beach picnic..."

The Monkee's lazed, piled on one another, in silent contentment, listening the gentle crash of the waves around them for a few moments, before Mike said: "It was a good day, Pete, if anything, because I got to spend it with my favourite boys."

Davy tilted his head upwards while Micky perched his chin on Peter's shoulder to see Mike as he continued to speak.

"My favourite boys," mused Mike looking lovingly at Davy, Micky and Peter - Mike's eyes were twinkling with affection not entirely unlike Davy's eyes whenever he fell in love.

"My favourite boys - who sometimes can be real' annoying an' more than a handful - " Mike pinched Micky's nose and the curly-haired boy poked out his tongue; " - but whom I will love and adore through thick and thin."

Micky mewled Mike's name.

Davy reached up and scratched Mike's chin, feeling the faint prickles of facial hair poking through. He couldn't help but grin, the lovesick fool. He was glad Mike and Peter were holding him for he was sure he would swoon otherwise - Davy was so taken by Mike's heartfelt words.

Meanwhile, Peter bent forward and did what Davy and Micky were just aching to do that instant - he kissed Mike tenderly on the lips. Davy and Micky looked on as Peter seemed to melt like butter under Mike's warm touch. They all felt Peter shudder as Mike deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into Peter's mouth. Davy and Micky knew Mike would be greeted by a sweet taste akin to honey in Peter's mouth. Davy and Mike could feel Peter's toes curl behind their legs, tickling the backs of their calves. Craving closeness at that instant, the Monkee's (somehow) managed to squeeze closer together - a tight-knit, lovesick Monkee pile. Peter and Mike's kiss finally broke, leaving them almost completely breathless.

"Pete, I - "

"I know Michael, I know" cooed Peter, cupping Mike's cheek and pressing a series of kisses onto it, "I do too."

Davy cupped Mike's other cheek, caressing it.

Mike let out a small whimper.

"Davy - "

"I love you so bloody much Mike, so, so much."

Before Mike could speak to Micky, the latter said: "I knew I loved you the moment I met you, Nez."

"Oh, Micky..." was all Mike could eventually say.

Mike didn't have to say anymore - none of them did.

The Monkee's didn't really have any verbal language to communicate the sheer depth and breadth of their feelings in that moment, but they all could tell intimately that they felt the same, almost overwhelming sense of love.

Mike held his boys close but Davy, Micky and Peter held Mike closer.

* * *

The Monkee's eventually traipsed back to the Pad - wet, reddened and exhausted - but very much in love. Their beach-day had been marvellous.


End file.
